What a load of crap, thought I. The object of my dissatisfaction was a Suzuki GT750-engined Dresda cafe racer. The motor ran badly, probably down to the extremely loud expansion chambers, popping and refusing to pull cleanly at lower revs. The chassis felt so twitchy that the bike gave every impression of having 100psi in the worn out Dunlops. | gave the owner my telephone number and told him any time he wanted to sell the machine for £750 to give me a ring, but that I would not pay a penny more and certainly not the £2950 he was demanding.
After about two months he telephoned. By then I had forgotten all about the Dresda GT but agreed that he could ride it around the next day for me to give it a final check over. He didn’t need to ring the bell, | heard him coming several streets away. By the time I’d donned my gear he was outside, the bike idling roughly, laying down a massive cloud of blue smoke. Curtains twitched and my reputation took yet another dive. The wife had already left me, so at least I didn’t have that to face.
A quick run up the road, a glance over the machine and another kick at the tyres revealed that it was in the same state as before. The logbook checked out, so I handed over the dosh as I couldn't think of any excuse not to. For those with short memories, or extreme youth or who can’t be bothered to turn to the Used Guide, the Suzuki GT750 had a water-cooled, three cylinder two stroke engine, knocking out 60hp and being, in stock form, fairly genteel in nature.
Along with most other seventies relics, the GT had a horrible, heavy chassis and rotten suspension. Which was where Dresda came in, offering a cafe racer chassis that had a rigid tubular frame, stiff suspension and a stretched, head in the clocks, riding position. The most pertinent measure of the Dresda’s success was losing about 120lbs of the GT’s 520lbs mass, with its inevitable effect on acceleration and flickability.
At least that was the theory. My machine was not in a very good state of repair so what follows should not be held against the Dresda chassis but against the neglect of about seven different owners! The speedo suggested the machine had done 78200 miles. The state of the engine bolts told of several engine rebuilds. Gouges in the fairing and dents in the alloy rims were evidence of past crashes. And the soggy suspension of huge mileage.
The first problem was to get the engine to run cleanly below 4000rpm and do something about the horrible noises emanating from the three spannies. Old strokers are very fickle about their exhaust systems but I figured I couldn’t make the machine much worse! The solution came after a good night's sleep... fit three GT500 pipes. Well each cylinder was the same size, so it was bound to work, wasn’t it? The mere fact that I had no less than four of these rusty items lodged in the garage rafters, from past stroker encounters, might have had something to do with this solution.
After a bit of hacksawing, welding and swearing I was in business. What a lovely muted sound! The neighbours would surely start talking to me again. I really thought I was in business, loads of torque and power up to 5000rpm, then a huge nothing. The engine stopped dead as if it had seized. Which it hadn't. A look at the spark plugs revealed it was running massively rich. Now, where the hell was | going to get three smaller main jets?
The Suzuki dealer actually laughed... he was still rolling around on the floor as I slunk out of his showroom. I must have phoned about fifty breakers before I found one with a seized GT750 on the stock 3-4 exhaust system. He would only sell a complete set of carbs for fifty notes, COD. Having little choice I gave in to this rip-off. The carbs turned out to be comprehensively knackered but the jets went straight in. Performance was not transformed. There was still a flat spot at 5000rpm, but come 5500rpm power miraculously appeared again and the motor would surge up to 7500rpm with something approaching usefulness.
It wasn’t fast enough to see off your average 250 race replica but for an old hack a top speed of 115mph was. more than acceptable, even if fifth gear had a tendency to leap out if you did more than 95mph for more than thirty seconds. Not that the vibes above 6000 revs encouraged you to thrash the poor old beast in such a manner.
Whatever characteristics the Dresda frame may have possessed vibration absorption was not one of them. Right from idle onwards there was an annoying buzz through the bars, pegs, seat and apparently illegal GRP petrol tank. I could more or less live with it up to 6000rpm when it turned as fierce as an old Bonnie ridden into the red.
This vibration was coupled with a riding position set up for endurance racing or some other man-made form of torture. The result was that a fifteen minute ride left my poor old 38 year old body comprehensively wrecked. Friends reckoned I would soon become a dead ringer for a hunchback and could be profitably employed begging on London street corners.
I can take physical abuse as well as the next man and wouldn't have minded so much if in some manner the Dresda GT excelled so well as to banish the pain from my mind. It never did, not even after forking our for a new set of Avons. This was not surprising given the fact that the forks were pitted, had soft springs and no damping; whilst the shocks were in a similar state of decay. The ride over wrecked London roads was horrendous. The mixture of vibes, misplaced body weight and horrific shocks through the suspension left me barely able to walk after an hours commute to my place of work.
Town work was further complicated by a lack of steering lock, a fairing screen that delivered gallons of water on wet days into the rider’s lap and an engine width on par with a Honda six. The brakes, I think stock GT twin discs out front and a drum at the rear, were surprisingly good for such an old, abused machine. Lacking the usual wet weather lag of such period pieces, the discs provided prompt stopping power with plenty of feedback... probably down to Goodridge hoses and some non-standard pads.
A rather insane run up to Scotland, motorway all the way, provided moments of insight into the machine's potential. On smooth roads the integrity of the frame was revealed with nary a flicker of discontent even with 115mph on the clock and an ease of directional control that would surprise riders of modern machines equipped with small wheels and wide tyres. I gritted my teeth against the vibes, got my head down into the twin headlamp fairing that was wide enough to provide protection from the howling force of the self generated gale and held out as long as the fuel would last.
Even with a huge five gallon tank, range was limited to about 100 miles before desperate searching for a fuel stop was necessary. Figure 20 to 30mpg from a worn out old Japanese stroker when used in anger. Consumption of oil was almost as alarming, a pint needed every fuel stop, although the large oil tank nestled between the frame tubes meant it was OK to add a litre every other stop. The chain needed adjusting every other stop as well, its rate of wear I have not encountered elsewhere - a life of about 2500-3500 miles!
In six months I did about 7000 miles. I count myself lucky that I did not have to strip the engine down. The GT750 motor is not the most reliable stroker in the world although it must be, in stock tune, one of the most under-stressed. When the gearbox oil started to gradually disappear I knew it was only a matter of time before the main bearing seals fatally failed and a rebuilt crankshaft would be the order of the day. It was time to cut my losses.
I managed to off-load the Dresda on some hapless fool for £975, so I probably broke even on the experience. It could quite easily have been a total disaster. Stock GT750s are way overpriced and Dresda versions even worse. As a tourer, fuel economy is too poor and vibes mind boggling. As a racer performance is pathetic. The chassis could have its uses housing a different engine. At the kind of prices people are demanding I can’t think of any reason to buy one!
Pete Dixie